


Zealotry of a Crush

by lover_of_blue_roses



Series: Neil/Everyone [1]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Neil is soft, basically mutual unrequited love, caring for john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:10:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26020120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lover_of_blue_roses/pseuds/lover_of_blue_roses
Summary: Neil has always thought John's tough guy act was a front for a softer, caring man inside, and man that could maybe one day care for him too. And when John is so stressed out and lashing out at everyone, Neil might be able to do more than just comfort him.
Relationships: John Lennon/Neil Aspinall
Series: Neil/Everyone [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888579
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Zealotry of a Crush

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [InkInMyFingertips](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkInMyFingertips/pseuds/InkInMyFingertips)

John was having a no good, very bad day. And if he was having a bad day, then everyone else should be too. He was perfectly capable of being an insufferable brat and dragging everyone down to his level. Which is, of course, how he found himself alone, which was just what he wanted. These tours were insufferable, screaming fans everywhere, not a moment of privacy, and living in each other's pockets constantly. So having the room to himself because his temper cleared it out was nice. No, really! Just him, alone with his thoughts. That wouldn't end poorly.

On the other side of the hotel door was the Beatles' manager. He wasn't tearing out his hair or biting his nails, just pacing at a steady clip, but that was very much the sign of him freaking out. He *needed* John in a good mood. The leader of the band, one of its frontmen on vocals, not to mention his personality and how he played off of Paul for the interviews. And the studio would want him writing again, always writing more for their next album, which couldn't come out soon enough.

Neil arrived at a slow and unhurried gait, clearly Mal hadn't relayed the message properly, this was a very *important* matter. "Oh, thank God you're here," Brian said as he snagged the roadie's sleeve. "I need you to talk to John, get him out of this funk. I need him- There will be interviews tomorrow and I need you to calm him down."

"Rrright," Neil answered, raising his brow. It was hardly the first time John had thrown a fit, but normally it would be the band that would calm him down. It must’ve really been something if even they didn't want to deal with him. But while they may have had that luxury, Neil did not. "And what exactly do you want me to say or do?"

"Anything, whatever it takes," Brian replied sternly.

Neil couldn't help it, his mind jumped to inappropriate things. Anything- well that certainly everything, including even- The roadie cleared his throat. This man was, in effect, his boss, so he steeled himself in front of Brian, who was both responsible for his continued employment and salary. Wouldn't do to flush and have his face betray his thoughts, although Brian has surely had the same ones. John was just so magnetic, charming, funny, entertaining, and devilishly handsome.

"Of course, sir," Neil finally settled on as he made his way into the room. John was indeed moping, having thrown stuff around, and was now collapsed on the couch, scowling at the wall. Brian was right, best not to leave him in such a state, he was far more likely to get worse rather than better if left unattended.

Neil slowly approached. John continued scowling, turning to look, seeing who it is before scowling more. Undoubtedly, he would have liked to see Paul more, but there's only so much the poor bassist can take. Still, Neil has always liked to think he has common ground with John. Thought he was so cool and a proper rebel with his quiff and leather jacket, but Neil could see that- much like himself- John was only playing at the teddy boy, but they were just bad boy pretenders. Soft inside, and caring in a world where they were constantly told that men couldn't do that or be that.

However, the world wasn't here right now, just them and these four walls. Neil went to the electrical kettle to put on a spot of tea. While he waited for that to boil, he found a blanket. John looked at him warily, like a dog that might bite. Neil kept his face blank and calm, he wondered if he should prabble on about nothing to break the silence. Maybe it's better if he takes such a cue from John though. "Don't you'd think you'd be more comfortable without your jacket?" He proposed, almost casually.

John had taken off his tie and loosened his top buttons but he was still in the stiff tweed. Without a word, the guitarist stared him down as he took it off, throwing the garment at the roadie. Neil caught it without complaint, well-aware of how John could get. "There, now isn't that better?"

John grumbled, but made no comment until the blanket was wrapped around him, "What was the point of me taking me jacket off, then?"

"Isn't this more comfortable?" Neil offered, although that wasn't the real answer John’s question. He was hoping that wrapping him up would help the man feel more comfortable, just like a child being tucked in. Although, he wasn't ever going to say that.

Neil went to fetch the tea which he had let steep on the coffee table, as he went to remove John's shoes. When he protested, Neil just shushed him. The lad could hardly bend down without disturbing the blanket. He just wanted John to sit back and properly relax, take a load off, let the anger melt and just float off downstream.

And while Neil was already on his knees for John, he thought of a way he could serve him further. It wasn't exactly how the roadie might have naughtily dreamt of, no, John would probably slap him for that,. Although, it would certainly be a way to relieve some tension. Instead, he went to John's feet and removed his socks too, so he could knead the bare flesh.

The foot rub must have felt good, for despite John's word, there was little tension in his body as he leaned back, just looking at him suspiciously. If circumstances had been different, if John hadn't been so upset, Neil could have at least hoped for some appreciative moans.

They stayed like that in peaceful silence until John leaned forward to grab his cuppa, only slipping one arm out of the blanket burrito. Neil gulped discreetly as John's crotch really did come right to his face. He looked down, ignoring the other man's body heat. "Why do you treat me so good Nelly?" John asked quietly, as though afraid to break the silence.

What an easy, yet difficult thing to answer. "Why, because you're worth it, John. You really are, even if you don't see it," he looked up at him, trying to broadcast his sincerity with his eyes. But he could tell that wasn't going to be enough. Slowly, he leaned up, placing a knee down for balance. The fact that this made it almost like he was straddling John, on the man's lap, had nothing to do with it.

"You're so talented," Neil continued, reaching out slowly to cup John's face, but John made no move to escape his touch, only setting the cup of tea down. "So wonderfully brilliant, and now the whole world is starting to see that. I've heard stories about how much George wanted to be in your band, even when you were a nobody with nothing, doing anything for it, auditioning on a bus. Because he could see you already, talent recognizing talent."

John's gaze was completely fixed on him, as though bound by a spell. Neil doesn't bring up that George might have wanted to join because it was the band his best pal Paul was in, because it didn't matter. John really was talented and worth it. That was the only truth that mattered in this moment. "And the fans- they just love you out there, because you are worthy of love, all the love in the world."

They were now a hair's breadth away, Neil could just lean forward and kiss him, so close and so tantalizing, but he could never- never do that to them, to their friendship. Even if John needed him as more than a friend right now, that much would be too much for the scouser, he's sure of it. Or even run his hands through that silky auburn hair, but instead thought of another kind of kiss.

"And your face," Neil continued as John was clearly not going to fill the silence, not say anything. But honestly that was good, much better than John reacting with anger. "There's a reason all the girls lose it for you. Such a sharp chin, and that nose," it's all Neil could do to not trail his finger down it as he spoke. He was not just saying that because he knew John was insecure about it, but because it was true. It made him look refined, if not outright elegant, like classical nobility.

Neil slowly lowered his hand to John's buttoned shirt. It was open just enough that if this was Paul, there'd be chest hair showing, but John was far less... traditionally masculine, even if you wouldn't guess it by the duo's faces. "And your body..." Neil said quietly, afraid that he was approaching the point of no return, sure that at any moment John would throw him off of his lap.

When Neil didn't finish, John's free hand from the blanket reaches out for the man's locks, almost shoving him towards his chest, although really just keeping him in place. "What about it?" He asked gruffly, an emotion thick in his voice that Neil didn't dare label.

Neil swallowed, his mouth practically salivating at the creamy skin exposed before him. "It's beautiful too, of course." Maybe it was bravery, maybe it was stupidity but if John hadn't said anything about him sitting on his lap, about him cupping his face, or saying those words then... maybe just maybe this too would be okay. Neil pressed the lightest, driest of kisses against John's neck.

John just sighed as he sunk into the couch, like a big cat looking harmless as it rests in the sun, yet just as capable of pouncing. "You're so good, just- such a gift. To the world, to everyone that knows you, simply amazing," Neil added between kisses as he slowly worked at another shirt button. He continued down, kissing his collarbones, and then lower still to the skin he was revealing. He alternated between compliments to John's personality and achievements, which were so great for his 20s, and compliments to John's body. Even, or rather especially, to the parts John doesn't himself love, like those glorious thighs.

Neil had thought things had been going so well when John's hand tightened abruptly in his hair. This is it, he was about to be smacked, thrown out, fired, and left stranded in the middle of the continental U.S. with nothing but however much money he has in his billfold.

"If that's true, if that's all true, why don't you kiss me here?" And John- John was pointing to his lips.

Neil almost couldn't believe it. That this, any of this, was actually happening, surely he just slipped and brained himself, all of this could not be anything more than a hallucination. His reaction, the silence, and then the probable staring had off-put John, who jolted back, like he was going to pretend none of this had happened.

Neil shot his arm forward to hold John still by the blanket, but by the guitarist's flinch it was clear he was expecting a blow. Neil couldn't have that, he moved up to kiss the infuriating man. He'll need a lot more than honeyed words to assure him, but Neil was up to the task. He doesn't even know who started it, but they stay like that, eyes screwed shut for an awkward moment, before their mouths are opening and their tongues are touching.

He never- he- even in his wildest dreams he didn't think this was possible. But as their roadie he was here to serve any and all of their whims. 'Anything' was what Brian said, and that was a job he was more than happy to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:Footrub


End file.
